[SilentFeather]

In the early years known as the medieval ages a young, massive werewolf lurked. He yearned to find another being of his kind. With a heavy sigh like breath he followed his inner instincts, each step taking him further and further from the familiar lands that he once called home. He looked around at his surroundings. He stopped from time to time, his large, pitch black muzzle close to the parched soil, sniffing at it with a rich curiosity. Soon he raised his massive head upward to the skies above, taking a inward sniff at the slight, chilly breeze that fall air. He was yearning to be close to another of his kind. He soon stopped, his sights closing in on a creature nearby. He felt an urge to attack but did not do such until there was a true threat. He approached the strange creature, his muscles tense and his fur raised. He wanted to growl but kept quiet.

The beast spoke aloud, a low, icy tone to his strong voice, looking at the harmless human. "You pathetic human!" He said, glaring at the young human male. "These are my lands!" His eyes narrowed at the being roaming his territory. He let all who challenged him know that he had the Grim Reaper on his side. He was a creature of death and delicious decay, letting that be his one and final warning before he would spring into the presence of such blissful battle. It made him feel alive. Truly, he loved living on the edge of anything dangerous. It was how he lived his life, on the edge without worry or fear.

The mighty beast went by many titles but his true name was Fire Tail, he was gifted such a name because of his fiery red fur. His name was also because of how many battles he had been in with the rival clan which were humans. He worked all of his life to earn the rightful title as did many before him in the tightly knit clan. It was his destiny. Truly it was. The mark of the beast was branded in his clan for many many many centuries, he hungered for raw flesh and thirsted for sweet blood.

Fire Tail kept his eyes on the pathetic human, feeling the presence of a snarl leaving the depths of his strong chest and from his terrifying jaws. He stepped forward like the true predator he was, his head low and his bright blood red colored eyes unwavering. He grew enraged, his fur raising on end. "How dare you trespass into my lands, human! I will teach you a lesson you will never ever forget!" He snarled louder, shoving the human to the ground hard enough to knock the air from his lungs. Then he attacked, ripping the clothing from his prey's puny body. He then held him down easily, saliva dripping from his jaws. He was aroused by the human, looking down at him as he began to struggle beneath him.

[Kestreling]

It's been a long few days, searching for the elusive stardust herb, the last item Blake needs for a certain spell he's been working on. The young mage skirts through the forest, trying to quickly locate the reagent in the dark of the early evening - the herb only blooms in the evening, and Blake can feel the night creatures watching him search through their territory. The feeling of sharp, wild eyes on him gives him pause, for just a moment, and he slows his pace, gentle and unassuming, hoping whatever it is that has him locked in its gaze will realize he's not a threat.

It was a silly idea, he thinks to himself, and one that he shouldn't have tried to go through with. He didn't need to cast this spell. He didn't need to go alone to find the stardust herb, but now, when he can hear the panting of a beast and the hooting of an owl much too close for comfort at his ears, his hands begin to shake with fear. What if he can never find his way out? What if something attacks him? What if--

He whirls around when he hears the initial declaration, eyes wide and looking for the source of the sound. He tries to choke out words, say something to defend himself, but his voice won't escape his throat, and he backs up against a tree and clutches his worn wood staff so tight it turns his knuckles white. He tries to think of a spell, something, anything that will help protect him, and the first thing that comes to mind, he begins to chant softly under his breath - until suddenly he's pinned to the forest floor and struggling for breath, staff and sack sliding across the leafy carpet of grass out of his reach.

A cry manages to escape his throat then, just barely through the wheezing, and he can feel something wet and slimy drip onto the back of his neck. He gasps and shudders as tears fall from his honey-colored eyes, trying to grab for his staff, a branch, the ground, anything that will get the beast off and away from him. "Please," he manages to whisper, still struggling to hold breath in his aching lungs, "please don't hurt me. I don't mean you any harm. Please."

[SilentFeather]

The mighty Fire Tail smirked down at Blake, his eyes never drifting from his prey's own terrified, horrified ones. He felt his feral urges beckoning and demanding for him to attack further, showing nor receiving no single moment of mercy. He was entirely aroused. He was eager to cause pain and suffering to his little wandering victim. Blake was at the wrong time. He did not hold back, still ripping the clothing that the mage had clean from his body without so much as a single care in the world. He was violent, tending to his unquenchable thirst for blood and hunger for human flesh flowing through his veins.

"Aw, my little mouse, you have made a mistake by traveling here. You see, I do not take trespassers lightly and I do not offer mercy of any kind." He said, throwing his head back with a booming chuckle that seemed to never stop. Soon he ceased laughing, his facial gestures and emotions took a sharp turn to pure rage. It was worse because he despised the human that was Blake, offering him no form of kindness. He was a beast and such he held no kindness. All he held was the call of the wild, his entire clan was slaughtered by humans and as such hatred grew to cruel, violent levels. It was his true calling.

Fire Tail was finally having a chance for payback. He was happy as a free spirit, never wanting this to end. He loved bringing harm to humans who found themselves wandering into his beloved territory. He did not care about their excuses, all he cared about was ripping through flesh and swallowing down blood like water. He loved taking humans and ending their lives one by one. It was just the way he truly he was. His past was also why he hated humans. Truly, now and forever.

Fire Tail held down Blake with his large paws, guiding his thick cock to Blake's opening and roughly shoving it into it. He did not give Blake a single moment to become accustomed to his girth and size of it. Not at all. Not even in the very least.

Fire Tail thrusted his hips forward many times, grunting and growling from time to time. He looked down at Fire Tail's back, focusing only on dominating his prey. He kept himself mounted above the unfortunate Blake and cared not for him or any human he made suffer. He laughed as if he were a cackling witch stirring a potion, not feeling negative about his actions.

[Kestreling]

It's all Blake can do to squirm and cry underneath the large wolf, pinned and helpless and at the beast's mercy. His words come out a mess, jumbled by his fearful sobs and the tears streaming down his face, pleas for mercy, pleas for lenience, pleas just to stay alive and to give the beast whatever he likes, to just spare his life and he'll never set foot in this forest again. But all that is for naught when his robes are ripped open and Fire Tail shoves unceremoniously inside his hole.

He screams in pain, clutching at the grass and gasping for breath. Just prior to this, he'd been a virgin, saving himself for someone he really had feelings for, but as the werewolf ravages him, all thoughts exit his mind, only focusing on the pain of being used like a sex doll for a cruel creature. He weeps, and yet his traitorous body warms at the wolf's harsh treatment, making Blake feel lightheaded and dizzy(though, he considers absently, that might be the lack of air.).

After a short struggle to no avail, he angles his body just so and decides to just let the creature have his way with him, giving a detached look to the sharp claws pinning him down and the slavering tongue of the beast above him. It is utterly humiliating, to be taken in a forest like this, and he's not sure how he can go home after. The only way he can think to deal with the situation is to try and separate himself from what is happening to his body, and he numbly goes quiet after screaming and sobbing just moments ago.

[SilentFeather]

Fire Tail continued to sexually assault Blake, not caring about each outburst from him. He felt closer to his climax, panting heavily with his long pink tongue laying ever so lazily from his lower jaw a little bit. He felt as though he was on cloud nine. With a howl he spilled forth his thick, creamy, snow white colored seed inside of his unfortunate victim. He got up from above Blake, not caring about how much he had ruined the humans life. All he cared about was his now soothed body. Life was a dream. He sighed happily, feeling his once tense body slowly relaxing as he laid down on the lush, bright emerald green moss and yawned. He licked his powerful jaws, grooming his bright red fur till he was truly satisfied. He smirked once he was done, falling asleep. He remained that way until real life beckoned him to awaken. He awoke with a mutter.

Fire Tail awoke that night, seeing his prey where he left him lying at. He felt no single form of remorse. He got up, stretching out his arms and legs for a minute or so. He scratched behind one of his pointy ears with one of his back paws, sighing for a minute. He walked over to the naked presence of Blake, not afraid of what the human would do to him. He was now comfortable. He wanted his prey to follow him but when unable to he put his prey on his back, walking back to his beloved cave. It was plain but it was his home, he liked to be simple. That was truly his personality. Simple and plain was his likes.

Fire Tail gently put Blake down on the cold, hard rock ground. He laid down on the ground beside him. He had no form of caring bone in his body. He soon moved to Blake, wrapping his larger body around him, he must have been cold. He fell back to sleep, knowing that he was disgusted by humans but he wanted the pups inside of Blake to be alright. He could care less above their host but he knew that he had to keep Blake warm. He sighed and accepted that as it was much more.

Fire Tail dreamed nothing that night, all of his dreams were like that. Dreams were nothing to him. He was always told to believe in nothing but the lives of his clan. Now his beloved clan was gone. The ones responsible were the money hungry humans. Oh how he hated them with a burning passion. He wanted each and every one of them to truly suffer and perish.

Fire Tail slept soundly, feeling at peace. He stayed that way until morning. He shook himself, getting any filthy dirt and leaves from his flawless, bright red fur. He cared a great deal about how clean he was and did not care about how others judged him. Not a single bit. He was used to pampering himself, not worrying about the words of others. He was an alpha, a true leader. He always walked proudly with his head and tail held high. He was born a true leader, he needed to repopulate with another werewolf but he was the only one left. He began to hunt humans for breeding but they would each die due to birthing complications. It would be his duty to make sure that his sons or daughters did not become harmed by humans.

[Kestreling]

It's all Blake can do to go numb from shock at the end of being brutalized, wounded and abused and completely worn out. He doesn't even have enough energy to crawl away at the end, grab something, anything to stall his assailant while he limped away - though, he deduces in his hazy state, with a beast like this he wouldn't get far. So, with no other method of escape, he lets the darkness take him once the monster is spent, and passes out into a dreamless, black sleep.

He wakes with a weak start only when he feels the ground fall away under him, gasping for breath and a foothold until the pain shooting through his gently jostling body reminds him that what happened to him was very much real. He can't bring himself to make noise, throat raw from screaming, and his body cannot bear to move and kick and thrash at the thing carrying him, and it's all he can do to go limp and weep silently at his fate, to be made into some sort of fucksleeve or a meal for this beast. At this point, he thinks being a meal might be better.

The creature lays him down and locks him into a tight hug - Blake figures it must be to keep him from sneaking off in the night - and only then does he realize the true form of his assailant - a werewolf, a feral from the forest. He's seen their pelts over the shoulders of nobles and great hunters, and he's seen their skulls on tavern walls, but never a live one - and certainly not one so utterly large(though he privately thinks of course it looks smaller if it's just the pelt in an effort to muster up some modicum of bravery. Even so, without his staff and his reagents, he's not got much magic to fight this thing off.

So he waits, fearfully, for the werewolf to wake, and in the meantime, tries to devise some plan of escape. He can feel the warmth of the wolf's cum seeping out of him, and it keeps him awake, and it keeps him reliving the brutal attack over and over. He's not prepared when Fire Tail stirs - the moment he moves again to wake up the tears begin to fall again, and it's a wonder he's not completely dehydrated by now. He backs away quietly when the wolf gets up and begins to groom himself, until he can feel the cold of the cave wall behind him, and looks desperately for something, anything to channel his magic through to at least stun the wolf for a moment in order to escape.

[SilentFeather]

Fire Tail stretched once more, letting his sad victim have full room to calm himself down. He looked at Blake, knowing that as his prey he would not get far if he was to try to escape from him. He yawned softly, revealing his sharp, bright pearly white teeth. He went out of the cave, in search for a big enough prey for that bright, early morning. To his luck he got a nice, juicy horse that had sadly wandered away from it's natural grazing ground. Such was the circle of life. Birth and death were of that and so much more. He held the prey in his strong jaws, showing that he took things easily when it cane to taking creatures down with his strength. He walked back to the cave, putting down the prey he caught alone by himself only.

Fire Tail put the deceased prey down on the ground, not worried about Blake, not at all. He was heartless, cruel and negative. He knew that it would be a while till he learned to trust the human. It was his way and he was not ashamed about being self-centered. He began eating the raw flesh until he was full. His once growling stomach was now quiet and in content. He licked his strong jaws with his bright, long bubble gum coloured tongue. The blood he tasted was so sweet and metallic at the same time. He walked over to the human, putting down a piece of the horse's flesh. He yawned, laying down. He did not care as to if he was trusted by him or not. All he cared about were his small but slowly growing unborn pups.

Fire Tail also did not care if Blake suffered. He sighed, laying down on his stomach. He watched Blake, letting him eat the piece of meat. He was cold as ice when it came to Blake. So far he and Blake had been together for s short while. He soon lazily fell asleep, doing that quite a lot. He stayed still as he slumbered. Life was nothing more than a burden. He made sure his ears were focused on any movement that Blake had chose to do. He would never give up Blake. He needed sexual release from time to time and now he had a source to take it all out on. That such one was poor poor weak human Blake.

Even though Fire Tail was asleep he was one step ahead of Blake. If hr escaped then he would be punished. He would not hold back, he would make sure he would never try to escape. He was a violent force if he was ever double crossed. He awoke that night, shaking himself and licking his fur till fully groomed. He did that out of habit. He was from a long line of royalty. He was a true werewolf, being feral was his true nature. He was truly proud of who he truly was. He was a predator.

Fire Tail awoke once more, feeling rested, licking his fur like many times before. Keeping up the image of true alpha. He felt the presence of his prey nearby, knowing that he was probably still afraid of him. He smirked, approaching his victim.

Fire Tail spoke, his low, voice monotone "My little mouse, how did you sleep. I hope that it wasn't relaxing." He chuckled.

[Kestreling]

He's lost in his own thoughts, glancing over at the cave mouth and the damp feeling inside, trying to devise some method of escape, when the horse meat drops wetly in front of him and shocks him out of his head. The smell makes him gag, and he covers his mouth and closes his eyes. In the face of his assaulter, he still can't bring himself to even look at him, and keeps his head low and his legs pressed tight together, as if that will save him from being noticed. He doesn't eat the horse meat, not even when he can hear the slow, even breaths of the wolf before him, and tries to clear his thoughts.

He gets up slowly then, stance shaky and pained from the brutal treatment his body had been given, stepping as softly as possible to a small collection of rocks on the far side of the cave. It's not much, but it's something - he gathers them and wraps them in the tatters of his robes, a makeshift weapon to try and knock out the wolf if he comes after him and grab a branch, or something, anything to channel his magic through to escape the beast.

In order to make little noise, he steps as silently as possible out of the cave, cloth of the weapon he'd made firmly between his teeth, and hands along the wall for balance. His search for a branch begins then, though none of them are quite the quality of his old staff, and only produce a fizzle when he channels through them. He spends most of his time searching for any sort of branch, any suitable conduit for his magic, until the snarl of his assailant stops him cold, bundle of twigs in his arms instantly forgotten.

He's not far from the cave, and hasn't technically escaped, knowing that the wolf would easily track and most likely kill him if he ran, but he freezes in place anyway, unable to speak, blink, or even breathe as the memory of his assault wells his tears back up inside of him. His legs suddenly feel weak and he falls against the tree he'd been gathering under, barely even noticing the bark scraping roughly against his skin and opening a jagged, weeping wound. He remembers to breathe then, a little too much, and his pleas come out in his hyperventilation. "Please-- please let me go. I'm sorry. I didn't come here to hurt you. Please let me go, I'll never ever come here again. Please."

[SilentFeather]

Fire Tail kept an alert ear, knowing but waiting to attack Blake if he attempted to escape. He did not and would not ever allow his victim to simply have a chance to be set free. Blake was carrying his pups, he would not allow him to leave. Not after he would give birth to the offspring. He would always be a victim of him, keeping him in his sight. He was eager to cause pain to his victim, Blake. Swiftly, he ran outside of the cave after noticing his slave trying to escape. He leapt, scowling at Blake, roughly pinning him down enough to bruise his slave's delicate, flesh. He didn't care for or about him.

Fire Tail spoke, a growl like tone in his voice. "Where do you think you are going." He glared down at the shivering, fearful being known to him as his little mouse. He kept Blake down on the hard, bonechillingly cold, hard rock ground. He was enraged. He loved being angry, it was like he was on fire or as to if he was a raging, dancing flame on the loose, setting everything ablaze in his path. He was destruction, he was death. He loved the signs of fear whenever his slave moved.

"How dare you try to escape from me! ..  I should punish you!" Fire Tail growled louder at Blake, letting him know as to what was true fear. That true fear was Fire Tail. He showed his teeth, each one was sharp like a finely sharp dagger to the heart. He did not hold back. Never. He was able to hear the sound of his slave's heart, it was beating beyond fast. True horror.

Fire Tail wanted his prey as good but now he would keep him alive. He needed his pups to grow and thrive inside of his victim. He smirked, chuckling as he got off if Blake. He watched him intently, not keeping his eyes off of his pathetic victim.

Fire Tail found it amusing the way that his prey had begged to be free. He was happy when he had captured a few humans. He loved to hear them suffer. He wanted to cause his victim harm, feeling a mixture of humor and anger brewing inside.

"Save your words, my little mouse. You will never leave." Fire Tail said coldly. "You are pregnant with my pups." He licked his strong jaws, smirking in a predator sort of way. He wanted to abuse his slave each and every single day till drowsy.

Fire Tail smiled, feeling on top of the world. He was happy, smirking sinfully. He would keep his prey till he found no more use for him. His victim would be his one and only breeding slave. He would abuse his slave till he saw fit. He would keep him until death took hold of him. He would also make sure that his slave was at his very true, harsh command for now and forever. He would never let his slave simply escape. He was now his slave forever, never being even abit nice to his slave.

Fire Tail wanted to be able to love again but since his husband's slaughter he knew not to trust so easily. Now all he felt was complete hatred and emotionless. He wanted to complete the deed of killing him but held back from attacking.